


a man in a dress is nothing but scandalous, especially in the 60's.

by itsmaz410



Series: for the dress obsessed <3 [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, George is insecure, John is also accepting!, Kinda, M/M, Paul is accepting!, RINGO IS SUCH A GOOD FUCKING BOY, They're all so good, boyfrieeeends, its all good yall i hope u enjoy!, slight homophobia? i suppose? its just a tiny mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 02:23:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20631539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmaz410/pseuds/itsmaz410
Summary: "Ye won't love me any less if I'm wearing a dress?""Okay but, fuck, that rhymes well."George wears a dress.(set in 1968, but the beatles aren't a band!)





	a man in a dress is nothing but scandalous, especially in the 60's.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: mazzy410  
send an ask! say hi! <3

Ringo lifts his bejewelled hand to card gently through his boyfriend's chocolate waves of softened hair. They were sat upon George's bed, curled up together as they watched the shining sun sink below the ground, conversing about various topics in murmured voices.  
They had been dating for a few months now, since July. Ringo had nervously asked a grinning George, and the taller man had swooped him into his arms with a chuckled, 'yes, of course,' escaping his lips. Paul and John had applauded proudly, as if they were two gay fathers and their son had gotten married to another guy. It was pretty damned cute.

Silence had fallen, and George had seemed to nearly doze off, his eyes almost closed, relaxed from Ringo's fingers in his hair. The room was relaxed and calm, and the two men were feeling very loving toward eachother. Neither of them had ever picked a fight, or yelled at eachother. They had never had a fight, though they easily discussed issues and resolved them together, in a very civilised fashion.  
Paul and John were probably cooking dinner, or snuggling up on the couch while watching the most cheesy movie they could find, smoking and laughing between themselves. The two weren't as calm as Ringo and George were, they often busied themselves by mucking about and dancing to rockabilly music, screaming along to Little Richard as they jumped around, pure happiness radiating from them both.  
It was fun to watch, too. 

Suddenly, George hums and turns his face to look at Ringo, his eyes open and now filled with a slight hesitancy, teeth chewing on his lower lip. He was nervous. Of course he'd be nervous, this wasn't really a normal thing that happened day to day for any of them.  
"Ritchie?"  
"Mm, love?"  
"Well, uhm." He pauses, his heart beginning to hammer against his ribs.  
George takes a deep breath, then just fucking spits it out. There was no point stopping at this point, otherwise Ringo would continue to ask what he wanted to say, and he'd have to talk about it eventually. He just feared what his boy would think. 

"I wanna.. wear a dress, Ritchie."  
Ringo blinks.  
Then he nods to himself as he thinks it over. His hair, which was a lighter shade of brown, brushed down against his ears, while he gazes at his anxious George. He doesn't need to be judgemental at all, because there was no reason for it. Who cared if a man wore a dress, or makeup, or went by a feminine name? It wasn't a big shock. So he went for the smoothest way he could respond.  
"What type a'dress, love? Like, the big ol' ridiculous ones from Disney movies, or like, small shorter ones? What about a polka dot dress, babe? That'd be pretty on you."

George's jaw drops. He wasn't expecting such a calm response from his boyfriend. He was expecting a scrunched up, confused face at his statement, and a scoff. He was not thinking that Ringo would instantly jump on board, asking about what kind of dress he should wear.  
Holy shit.

"Oh, Ritchie, I love you," He gasps out, beaming as he tugs Ringo into a passionate loving kiss, his cheeks quickly colouring light peach pink. 

He had been thinking about it for months, ever since he saw a couple in the local café, talking over two beers and a big, shared chicken parmigiana. The male had been dressed in a ombre black and white chiffon dress that swished slowly around his legs, showing the skin on his freckled shoulders. And he had looked so free, so positive in his own skin, that George was left in awe. 

"Y'won't love me any less if I'm wearin' a dress?"  
"Why would I? I don' think guys wearin' dresses is weird or bad, it's actually pretty cool, though I wouldn't do it meself, love. If ye wanna, I'm all for it," Ringo says with a warm little grin. George returns it, feeling like a heavy weight was lifted off of his aching chest.  
"So, ye wanna go shoppin' or sumthin' tomorrow? Get some dresses an' stuff? Wait, ye wanna get makeup or anythin'?" Ringo was asking him about a thousand questions, and George had to laugh as he hushed his excited boyfriend.  
"Maybe not makeup yet, bu' god, absolutely yes fer tha shopping idea."

And so, it was settled. They would go out the next day, and browse the many many dresses and skirts on offer in multiple stores. A binge shop. Whatever George wanted, Ringo said he would try to afford, though there was a budget that they would have to stick to. 

For dinner, Paul served up steaming bowls of his best spaghetti bolognese, with glasses of red wine. John had winked cheekily and then fucking chugged the entire glass, to Paul's pure horror and amusement. Then George and Ringo bid the chaotic couple goodnight, snuggling up together in George's warm and cozy bed, dozing off after a few loving kisses that they shared. 

The next morning, George awakens to the sound of Ringo yawning. The bed shifts a bit as they lean into eachother, refreshed from their soothing sleep, smiling drowsily.  
"Gunna be a big ol' day t'day, babe..", Ringo murmurs, his voice raspy and warm as he mumbles into George's neck. There's a nice few minutes where they lay together, basking in the warmth of the morning light, eyes sleepy and hands gently held.  
Then, they decide to get up out of their cozy cocoon, George letting out a grumbling whine as Ringo pulls him off the bed, giggling to himself. 

Soon enough, they've gotten dressed, though Ringo mentions 'you'll be in a dress later' with a cheeky grin as George whacks his arm gently, snickering shyly. He's still a bit nervous, though he's getting rather excited.  
Then he gets a heartbreaking thought.  
"Wait, wait, Ritchie," George starts suddenly, looking slightly anxious again, "I can't just waltz around the house in a dress with John an' Paul here. What.. What do we tell 'em?" 

"Paul won't judge ye, doll, though maybe John will need ta get an explanation. We can do it after we shop, aye?" Ringo soothes his boyfriend with a softened kiss, smiling. 

They're off to the shops by 11 am, Ringo pulling up to the local mall with a beam, George looking more excited than nervous by now. They wander around, until they see a shop with an array of dresses, poofy and skinny, short and long. George's face goes bright red, but Ringo smiles and leads him inside the shop.  
In moments, the shop assistant smiles at them and asks them if they want any help.  
"Uh, can we check out tha dresses with flowy fabric?" George asks, regaining his confidence as he smiles at the assistant, who's wearing a sunflower patterned dress with a thick belt around her stomach. 

When George sees a dress similar to the ombre frock he saw in the café, he lets out a soft gasp and takes it off the rack, unable to hide his smile. Holy shit, he was desperate to find one that was similar, and this one was long, flowy and fucking ombre.  
"Ooh, it's a purple and blue one, Geo! S'nice, definitely will suit ya, but.. we gotta get yer size, yer tall as all hell," Ringo says with a smirk, as George snickers and takes out his size. 

After an hour, they've bought multiple dresses, and even two pairs of wedged high heels. George had gotten nervous about the stilettos at first sight. 

Ringo was honestly rather proud of George. They were living in a rather oppressive world at the moment, where women weren't supported as much as they should be, where gay men were mostly seen as scum (which they fucking weren't, gay rights, bitches), and if people saw a man in a dress, they'd probably throw a fit.  
So when George first saw that dress, and his face lit up as if he'd been handed a kitten to keep, Ringo couldn't help his grin.  
They arrive home, and Paul looks up from his newspaper, seeing their cheerful smiles, and casually asks, "What's got ye both so giddy, aye? Ye been shoppin' together?"  
George realises quickly that they haven't exactly told Paul yet, and his hand tightens over Ringo's in a warning. But Ringo smiles, and nods calmly. He would lie between his teeth.  
"Aye, it was pretty gear. We bought some shoes an' stuff, an' George wanted ta try a mango smoothie, an' turns out he loved it."  
Paul doesn't seem to think much of it, nodding and lighting a cigarette. John wanders in, waving at the other couple as he drops down on Paul's lap, earning a rough smack and a grunt from his boyfriend. "Jesus, yer fuckin' heavy," and John lets out a loud huff, making George snicker.

George tumbles into their bedroom, looking extremely delighted as he frantically pulls the items out of their bags, ignoring the price tags. He grabs for the ombre purple dress, and pairs it with the black wedged heels, beaming. He goes to tug off his sweater, then gasps when he sees his boyfriend watching with the most gentle smile.  
"Wait, Ritchie, ye can't look til I'm ready!"  
"Oh," and Ringo turns around, covering his eyes with a little giggle.

George gets stuck zipping up the back of his dress, and lets out an aggravated groan, hands clawing at his back over his shoulder as he fails to tug the zip up properly. So he steps into the wedges, wobbling for a moment before nearly falling over.  
Ringo hears his boyfriend's various desperate and defeated noises, so he grins and asks gently, "Do ye need any help, doll?"  
George's response is to whine loudly.

Ringo giggles as he sees George's lanky arms twisting to attempt to grab at the zipper, moving forward to shift his hair (that was long enough to only just be caught in the zip) out of the way to pull the zipper.  
"Aight, here's how ye stand in wedges, baby, I made sure that they were lower to tha ground since ye haven't tried heels before," Ringo murmurs as he allows George to find his balance while leaning heavily on his arm, smiling all the while. 

In a few minutes, George is dressed. 

The dress is stunning, easily highlighting his lanky figure but also making his hips look softer. As the fabric turns to a lighter shade, it sways around his ankles, kissing at his legs and flowing gently. George's hair barely reaches his shoulders, but it shines as he grins at Ringo, even giggling with excitement as he swishes the dress around his legs. God, this was the best day of his life.  
In the middle of George's show, the door opens suddenly and Paul's standing there.  
"There's lunch on the table if ye want it, by th-", he stops mid-sentence, having seen the scene in front of him. His expression shows pure confusion.  
George swears under his breath and begins to kick off the heels, his movements slightly frantic as he feels the guilt build up, his heart fucking thundering in his chest. Ringo's caught in it all, trying to calm his boyfriend down but also trying to explain to Paul that everything was fine. Then George starts to actually panic, and Ringo sees Paul nod and exit to the living room, sending him a look that said 'meet in the living room soon'.  
Ringo turns to his boyfriend.  
"Babe, Geo, listen ta me. He's not weirded out, I saw his face. Besides, remember that little photoshoot we did in the kitchen and we messed around an' wore makeup? Paul was the one who suggested doin' it! So I don' think he'd be offended by you in a dress, I promise ya."

When George had stopped freaking out, Ringo helped him put his wedges back on, and stroked his hair, kissing him gently and humming, leading him out to the living room. It was a tense moment as they did, and George was sweating, his eyes filled with heavy anxiety.  
John grins when he sees the dress, clapping proudly. Paul actually whistles at the sight of George, his face lighting up with pure glee.  
"Holy shit, Geo, mate, ye look fucking gorgeous."  
And George blinks, eyes wide.  
"What?"  
"I said ye look fuckin' gorgeous, Geo. Why are ye wearin' a dress?"  
George clearly doesn't notice the supportive tone in Paul's question, so he slumps in his chair and lights a cigarette, shrugging his shoulders. So Ringo wraps his arms around George, smiling. He decides to answer the question.  
He smiles as he explains, "He's wanted ta try wearin' stuff like that fer a while now, he said ta me las' night. There ain't nuthin' wrong with a guy wearin' a dress, an' our Georgie seems ta really like it, ya know? An' he said that he's not really ready fer any make up yet, but in the future, maybe."  
Paul lets out a cheer of excitement.  
John nods, and reaches over, patting George's shoulder, then stealing his cigarette with a laugh.  
"S'awesome yer comfortable in that stuff, mate, an' ye look damn good in it."

George beams, brushing his hair back out of his eyes, "Can I do a catwalk thing?" And Paul nearly knocks the cigarette out of John's hand as he throws his arms up, cheering even louder.  
In moments, George awkwardly walks around the living room on slightly unbalanced feet, swishing the skirt of the dress rather obnoxiously, and the other three each wolf whistle, cheer and yell out ridiculous compliments.

Later that night after a delectable dinner from Paul, Ringo and George are snuggling up together on the couch, smoking a shared cigarette as they fiddle with eachother's accessories, Ringo's rings and George's necklace.  
"Thank you, Ritchie," George mumbles, cheeks flushing pink.  
"Fer what?"  
"Fer showin' me that I can be accepted by my closest friends. Don't matter what the world thinks, but s'nice to know that wearin' a dress isn't gunna be frowned upon here. Ye helped me out, an' showed me no judgement. So, fuckin' thank you, I love you."

Ringo is silent, then he sniffles.  
"Oh, Ritchie poooo!" George giggles and kisses all over his boyfriend's face, smiling softly. Then he strokes the tears off Ringo's cheeks, humming.  
"But really, thank ye very much."  
Ringo smiles tearfully, and rests his head on George's shoulder.

"I gotta say, 'ye won't love me any less if I'm wearin' a dress' is the best rhyme I've heard in years, babe."  
The boys both snicker in the darkened room, feeling extremely full of love and hope.


End file.
